#ink explosion

[put-me-in-a-field-with-daisies]

My copy of Red just arrived (my first one got lost in transit) and look at our girl….She smudged the ink and then managed to get it all over the back of the booklet LOLOL. Forever cherishing this special copy with Taylor and her ink going everywhere

[wankerspoon]

A collection of sorts, of random writings, some academic and some personal poetry. (I apologize if writing isn't your thing.)

"She makes a run for the forest, the beaten path and I have nothing to say to each other But your eyes say it all, like a cascading waterfall or something too cliche for words to convey. Thinking how I could make a mess of things, when my oracle refuses to say anything at all. Well isn't that how it goes, when roots refuse to stay or grow, He is a mirage that swept in and drifted away the same way. I am afraid the sea waves may never see the light of day. I'm composed of scraggly bearded men and sunsets only seen in photographs. One awkward laugh away from fleeing on a westbound train, got my brandy and the wide open plane, gonna learn me something at last. Light-hearted soul, won't you show me the way to go? Because I've been thinking how I've got to get this death thing down pat. I don't wanna go out with a bang, but this life has got to mean something more, than a worn out sense of folklore, when my shaky feet haven't even graced the shore."

"Equilibrium is a joke nowadays, Freedom is an abstract concept anyways, We could all be sheep in a daze, Or war time rebels lost in a red haze, Soldiers are paid to fight the good fight, Freedom fighters dying in the street just to see the light, Of a new age that won't come, Because somebody taught Bobby to use a gun, To really give his words a punch, Mass murder on the case of a hunch, That somebody might have the guts to say, We won't relent and we won't be swayed." (On the topic of wars, protestors, riots)

"I realize that I have not valued, nor have I sought Nature near as much as I would like to. Being outside, I am happily humbled to be as that of a small fish in a big pond with so much area left to explore. I see beauty in everything and delight in the few neighborly animals that tend to saunter by, unphased by my presence. Nature has an ethereal quality about it that I find to be very healing and invigorating. I feel closer to myself out there, and I imagine the breeze blowing through my hair is the very breath of God telling me that I exist and I matter." (On Henry David Thoreau's "Walden", and such experiences)

"You are composed of stomach ulcers and flasified dreams, and here I am, in a bookstore writing as though you mean something. If I spread your arms from here to there, could I taste your reasoning? You are a scattered tattered painting of a Southern meal, no seasoning. Your smirk, today's Stonehenge, no one knows what could have built it, And like Kim Jong Il, you're always in the right and I throw a fit..." (Don't date me, I'll write about your issues.)

"I want mixtape dandelions, ocean skylines, But all I get are sex bracelets and chemical strains. Finding a person to pronounce my name, with no vowels or constanants. Well I wanna watch your jaw vibrate, as you thieve my hand. Silohuette purpose cling to my skin, you are an empty vessel, where even the birds won't land. Tale this, the bitch of a man." (Again with relationships.)

"Her teeth give way, decay like you can't handle the words they'll form. Her ragamuffin head is a cabbage patch kid left out in the rain; the scent of a flower slowly fading. Asphalt, asphalt as far as the eye can see, her weary feet tread steadily. And everywhere she goes she gives off this faint glow; we filled her to the brim with dandelions. And she speaks the sea just like someone who could transcend the ocean." (Last one, I had to write about myself for some assignment.)